Synesthesia For A Queen
by SugarCoatedLotus31
Summary: The circus is an enchanting opportunity for all young magicians, or more accurately, their money-craving parents. It appears that all of the auditionees have been accepted, but Simon is wary of the game that they have been forced into. (circus!magicians!AU)


**Rated K for now, may change later. **

**Hey. Look. I'm not dead. Yeah. I've had some fun adventures while I was not updating any of my stories... I'll update one day. I'll make it my New Year's resolution or something. When was even the last time I updated? Like, last Jesusmas? Wow. **

**But yeah, one of those adventures was reading Lord of the Flies and The Night Circus, thus giving birth to this little story here. It's also posted on my tumblr, which is charles195 if you're curious, and tagged as Synesthesia For A Queen. I've still been writing while I wasn't updating, but you know, not for any of my stories. As a result, I think my writing has matured significantly. Or at least I hope it did. I wrote this pretty recently, so...**

**Enjoy~!**

**Flash One, Bulb One**

The exit fades inconspicuously after all the boys enter the black-and-white-striped tent. No light source is visible, but there is light that fills the entire tent without any shadows. There is a buzz among them, inspired by the nervous curiosity of youth. They're wearing suits of neutral colors, which blends together them into a dull blob, but if you look at each individual, you can see the dazzling colors that make up their personality.

A boy, perhaps a little older than you, who has already dirtied the bottom of his trousers with mud and laughs loudly is alive with swatches of bright tangerine, like a firework blooming in the sky. A smaller boy cowers from the unfamiliar faces, unknown places and is shaded with periwinkle and pastels. The boy, you think your age, sitting cross-legged that is indifferent to the excitement and tired of standing is dark with navy blue, indigo, and forest green.

It fascinates you to experience all these different shades behind the monotonous suits. You don't think you've ever been alone with boys your age before. It doesn't strike you that you might be supposed to socialize with them instead of just staring until the dark boy speaks to you.

He asks why you're here. You don't think he's actually talking to you until you make eye contact with him. You quickly look away and say that you want to join the circus. He asks why. A moment of hesitation passes as you're dumbstruck, as if you don't even know why you would do something without a reason, but you give him a smile and tell him it's a secret. The actual reason is really dumb and you would die protecting it.

He scratches his back and tells you his own reason without being prompted, grumbling his parents made him. You realize that this probably applies to most of the boys in the tent.

He doesn't say anything else, doesn't attempt to continue the conversation or give his name. You suspect that he only wanted to complain and imply that he was reluctant to come, but you also know from the fluttering bit of red that he's just as pepped up about this opportunity as everyone else.

You sit next to him, hugging your knees to your chest, and also refuse to say anything more. There's more to see than say in this situation. Particularly, three older boys catch your eye.

The fair boy and the red-haired boy get along well, despite having just met. They're the complete opposite of you and the dark boy. Laughter and boasting of their fathers distracts them from the fat boy behind the fair boy and makes the fat boy into a third wheel. However, the three of them have distinct shades unlike the others who have multiple colors swirling about them. They contrast against each other like tides clashing, or continents smashing against each other.

The red-haired boy is the simplest shade of red you have ever seen. It is the shade that you don't know how to describe other than simply red. Not sunset, not scarlet, not crimson, not pretentious blood-orange.

Likewise, the fair boy is just blue and the fat boy is just yellow. They don't waver or mix with any other colors. It hurts your eyes to see how vivid their respective colors are, yet you can't look away. You think they could be the quintessence of what society strives for.

_What color are_ you?

You finally give your eyes a break and close them. You're suddenly aware of the card tucked into your sleeve, as inconspicuous as the disappearing exit. You open your eyes again and reach into your sleeve to see what it is. One side of it has the circus' trademark playing card design in black and white, but the other side has neat calligraphy in fresh ink. You accidentally smudge the words when you run your thumb along them:

_Pick a rival, _  
><em> then tell everyone to check their pockets.<em>

You briefly consider choosing the dark boy, but wait, you have a whole palette to choose from, and the card is telling you to choose a rival—as in, someone you have to compete against to better yourself. You probably have to talk and spend a lot of time with them, too. You don't think you've even had a friend, before.

You get up and walk towards the fat boy. You don't ask, but tell him let's be rivals. Question marks adorn the befuddled expression you earn in response, so you show him the card. He adjusts his glasses and takes the card from you. He finds an identical card in his own pocket, except they only instruct him to pick a rival. He says you're not half good of a rival, which you think is a compliment, and says okay, I'll be your rival and what's your name? He doesn't care what you happen to call him, as long as it's not what his old classmates used to call him.

You think it's strange that the fat boy left the choice of his nickname to him. It would be a lot smarter to just give your own name, that way people don't come up with something mean to call you like his classmates must have. A fake name would suffice. You wonder if you should come up with a fake name.

You hesitate with an umm before the fat boy turns around and tugs on the fair boy's sleeve. The fair boy is annoyed by the interruption. The fat boy shows your card to the fair boy. The fair boy finds a card identical to the fat boy's card in his pocket, then tells the red-haired boy to check his pocket, too. He then raises his voice to a shout that pierces through the crowd and silences them.

"Hullo! Everyone! Check your pocket!"

Another kind of buzz, this time confused, sweeps over the boys. It doesn't take long before the crowd arranges themselves into pairs. As you expected, the fair boy and the red-haired boy choose each other.

You watch who the dark boy chooses. You're thrilled when the bright boy taps him on the shoulder. They seemed to have paired themselves up, but you feel a chill run down your spine when the dark boy looks over his shoulder and meets your gaze. Your face burns.

You turn your attention to the fair boy asking the fat boy what the audition was supposed to be. A sudden impulse urges you to check your own pockets. A card similar to the first one is present, with the same font as before:

_The challenge has begun._

Your name is Simon, and you notice that the black stripes of the tent are now fading into whiteness.

**Pretty short, but close enough. It also has that mspaintadventures type of narrative, which occasional sections of the Night Circus have. I'm pretty thrilled about this new AU thing. I actually despise the Night Circus but I also rly like it. I'll post a review of the Night Circus on tumblr later or something since my feelings about it are still very strong. The concept of magicians and stuff is super cool. **

_**The circus is in town and I'm down with the clown. **_

**Might update really soon. Please review. **

**Until next time~!**


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